The Joys of Fanfiction
by intastella burst
Summary: Emmett discovers fanfiction, much to Edward's annoyance. Need I say more?
1. Slanderous Trash

The hysterical snorts and screams of laughter coming from Emmett and Rosalie's room weren't unusual. This is _Emmett_ we're talking about, after all. Nor were the emotions coming from him . . . I was used to this degree of, er, inappropriateness when it came to my brawny brother. What _was_ unusual was that Rosalie wasn't causing this degree of, um, _hilarity _in her husband. She was, in fact, sitting next to me in the living room, rolling her eyes expressively whenever he chuckled particularly loudly. I gave her an inquisitive look.

"Do you really _want_ to know?" she asked darkly. I shrugged and looked at Alice, who appeared to be just as clueless as me.

"He just discovered something called _fanfiction_." She spat the word like it was a curse. I saw Edward, sitting on the couch cradling Bella in his arms, as usual, bristle. "He's being insufferable. He won't unglue his eyes from that dratted computer screen for two seconds together."

Edward narrowed _his_ eyes and turned his head to the side, presumably to better hear whatever was running through Emmett's oh-so-pure brain. Abruptly, an atmosphere of rage began to materialize around him; it was oppressive. Bella, sensing the change in his mood, looked up at him with frightened eyes. Alice smirked at me and held up five fingers. Four, three, two, one . . .

"EMMETT!" he roared, putting Bella down and charging up the stairs like a being possessed. "What is WRONG with you?" He began a chain of complicated expletives as he crashed through Emmett's door. At least I knew what I was getting Emmett for Christmas this year . . . a _lock_. Or possibly a steel door.

Bella looked at the rest of us with wide eyes.

Rosalie just yawned. Alice was rolling on the floor, in silent hysterics at Edward's performance. Esme had learned long ago that trying to interfere in their quarrels was futile, and so she merely smiled sympathetically at Bella. Carlisle hadn't even looked up from the medical journal he was perusing. And I? I could see that no one else in this ridiculous family was going to soothe Bella's fears--the worry and panic pulsing through her were suffocating--and so I stood up and walked slowly towards her.

"Don't worry, Bella. Emmett and Edward get like this--" a loud crash and Emmett's signature poor-little-me wail of despair echoed down the hall. I winced. "--all the time. It's nothing to worry about." She didn't look convinced. I sent a few calming waves in her direction.

Hooray, now it was time for the rolling-down-the-stairs-in-a-headlock part of their brawl. I couldn't help but snicker at the sight. Furious growls were ripping from Edward's chest, his face quite deranged. Emmett was growling, too, but he kept laughing and saying absolute nonsense ("Carlise . . . Sexy Edward . . . Bella Banana . . . hot werewolf"), which seemed to only make Edward more livid, if that were possible. The emotion in the room was a curious and overpowering mixture of rage (Edward, of course), humor (who else? Emmett), fear (poor Bella), and boredom (everyone else). It wasn't like we hadn't seen variations on this tired old theme many times before.

They finally landed in a heap of muscle and rage at the foot of the stairs. Carlisle marked the page of his report. "What is it this time, boys?" he asked patiently.

"HE--" Emmett, still snorting, pulled Edward up by the collar--"broke my laptop!" He pouted unconvincingly.

Rosalie sighed in a long-suffering way. Carlisle said reasonably, "That was wrong of Edward, but you DO have five. Laptops, I mean." Emmett sighed, too. "Yeah, well . . ."

Edward spat venom on Emmett's hand. The latter quickly let go of the former's collar. "Ew," he observed pleasantly.

Edward was trembling with fury. "HE was reading slanderous . . ." he seemed to notice Bella's presence in the room for the first time. " . . . trash," he finished lamely.

"It wasn't trash," Emmett said defensively. A slow grin worked across his big face. "STOP THAT!" Edward hissed, glaring at Emmett. "Get her out of your foul BRAIN!" And so the scuffle began again.

Carlisle frowned. He stood up and pulled his _less_-well-behaved sons apart. I felt very virtuous.

"That's enough, and I mean it," he said firmly. "I'm ashamed of your behavior, both of you. Edward, was there really the need to . . ." Edward was nodding fervently.

"If you only knew the garbage . . . disgusting garbage . . . he was reading about EVERYBODY in this room," he finished ominously. He nodded once, answering an unspoken question of Carlisle's, and the good doctor's face darkened.

"If that's true, young man," he began to threaten Emmett, but his son wouldn't let him finish.

"I was just being _creative_," he whined, and his face was heartbreakingly cute. I couldn't help it. I snorted derisively. Emmett glared at me vindictively for breaking the spell of his "moment." I shrugged and mouthed "PERVERT" at him; it wasn't hard to guess exactly the sort of material he'd been reading. Carlisle sighed.

"Emmett," he said, and his voice was pained, "how about you try limiting your creativity to less, er, graphic venues in future, all right? And Edward . . ." he looked at his first son and exhaled. "Try anger management."

I made a face at Emmett behind Carlisle's back. He glowered at me for a moment, and then . . . it slowly dawned across his face. He whispered something in Edward's ear that sounded a heck of a lot like "Did you see the Jasper/Bella section? Pretty hot stuff . . ." Edward slowly turned towards me, and Emmett smiled. His work was done. I jumped away from Bella, too late in noticing that we were side-by-side . . . _oops. _Edward's face was contorted with rage.

"JASPER!"

_Dang it._


	2. Have Some Dignity, Please

**Author's Note: I know that Emmett is not stupid. Jasper knows that Emmett is not stupid, too. He is just a tad . . . unhappy with his brother, and therefore inclined to undervalue his intellect. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and forgive some OOC-ness; I just couldn't help myself. :)**

Click.

Double click.

Ah, yes, Google, friend of man . . . and vampire. I briskly navigated myself through a series of windows before finally reaching my final destination.

_Fanfiction--Unleash Your Imagination  
_

How fitting. Not that Emmett needed to be _told_ to unleash _his_ imagination. It was running quite free as it was.

I paused for a moment to indulge in a fit of manic laughter.

No one would hear me, anyway. They were all out--Bella and Alice shopping (well, _Alice_ was shopping, at least; Bella was probably still sulking, despondent at her separation, however temporary, from Edward); Carlisle at the hospital and Esme landscaping the yard (_again_; before I met her, I hadn't known that there were so many ways of arranging flora); Edward and Emmett hunting together (which was probably a bad idea for Emmett. Not that I minded.)

In short, I was quite alone, and therefore would be able to carry out my mission of revenge (at least Phase One) in relative peace.

Shall I refresh your memory on the topic of what I wanted revenge _for_? Well, let's just say that Emmett had most unjustly projected his twisted little ideas onto innocent moi, for which reason Edward nearly killed me.

Well, perhaps that's not entirely truthful. But I'm with Carlisle--aggression therapy for Edward would still be quite advisable.

Anyway, Emmett, most unwisely, had never bothered to invest in a reliable lock, and so I had had no trouble at all in entering his bedroom and stealing--no, _commandeering_ is the proper military term, I believe--one of his four remaining laptops.

I had to admit, it was almost too easy. Emmett even had himself perpetually logged into his fanfiction account, so I didn't have to go to the trouble of hacking in. This was probably less out of consideration for me, though, and more related to the fact that Mr. Genius was incapable of remembering anything with more than four digits that didn't include the words "Rosalie" or "irritable grizzly."

Do I sound bitter? Really, I'm not.

But as I was saying, it was too easy. It very nearly took the fun out of the whole scheme.

_Nah._ It didn't.

My eyes opened wide at the sight greeting me on the computer screen. I'd been expecting to find a list of the fanfictions he had _read_, not the ones he had _written_.

I hadn't known Emmett could write.

I winced, skimming the titles of his works. I had to admit, though, that some of them were quite impressive: "EDWARD NEEDS HELP" looked really quite inspired, and "Star-Crossed Love," though disturbing enough when you read the summary (it involved a werewolf, Carlisle, and, apparently, an obscure tropical locale), was really a more poetic sentiment than I'd been expecting.

And then I scrolled down.

"In Which Jasper Gets a Life . . . Maybe," rated M. 273 reviews. Summary: "His life sucked from the beginning. After he met his love, his life didn't. Jasper still sucked, though. Will he always? R&R!!"

Incensed, I clicked on the "reviews" link; too angry to read the story itself.

The first one on the page read "omg, who knew jasper was such a freek?! liek, world of warcraft?? that's sooo weird."

I had to physically restrain myself from breaking the mouse beneath my trembling fingers. How DARE he betray me? World of Warcraft was supposed to be a secret!

Suddenly, I understood why Edward had snapped Emmett's other laptop. I only wondered why he had stopped there. Why he hadn't made a clean job of it and snapped Emmett's NECK!

My fingers twitched compulsively.

_Focus, Jasper, focus. Remember the mission. A soldier never loses focus._

I gritted my teeth and continued to scroll down, which took some time; my dear brother had penned upwards of twenty fanfictions in total, ranging from the revolting (the appropriately titled "Get Me Through This Nightmare," starring Bella and _me-_-if it were possible for a vampire to be sick, I would) to the just plain odd ("BWAHAHAHA Attack of the Rosalies"--I didn't dwell on what _that_ was supposed to mean). Finally, I came to the last story ("He Sparkled in the Sun Like Freezerburnt Ice Cream": a truly nauseating tale involving Emmett, lots of grizzly bears, and a particularly sunny day at Yosemite National Park).

The enemy was even more formidable than I had expected.

I was interrupted from my solitary strategic musings by the all-too-familiar purr of Alice's Porsche pulling into the drive. _Dang_.

I wasn't worried about Alice (she had foreseen this, after all) or even Bella catching me at it, provided she kept my scheme to herself. But I knew that Edward, who couldn't bear being away from Bella for extended periods of time, would soon follow, and with him "MonsterJeepHellYeah." Yes, that really _is_ Emmett's penname.

I hastily shut down the computer and left the room, turning the latter's surveillance cameras back on as I went. It was odd, him having those installed . . . either Emmett was extremely paranoid, or he had some other uses for the cameras . . . oh. OH._ EW_!

Maybe _I'm_ the paranoid one. Emmett's delightful little stories certainly had the power to make me so.

I waltzed down the stairs, my hands in my pockets, oh-so-jauntily whistling "SexyBack" (before you start judging me, please remember that it was on_ Emmett's_ iTunes playlist, not mine). He really _had_ corrupted me.

I tried my best to exude an air of nonchalance. I knew that I had no hope of fooling Alice, but perhaps I could keep my plan from Bella--that girl was unpredictable as the wind, and I didn't want to risk her inadvertently passing valuable information along to Public Enemy Number 1.

The front door creaked open, and then Alice was in my face. "How _dare_ you, Jasper Hale?" she hissed, dropping several heavily laden shopping bags on the floor. Bella trotted in after my wife, looking uncharacteristically smug, although there was definite humor beneath her superiority complex. I started to panic.

I could feel distinct waves of chagrin and annoyance radiating off of Alice. Despite my shock (I'd been sure she'd support me in my effort), I endeavored to remain calm. "What do you mean, dear?" I asked innocently, holding up my empty hands in a gesture of surrender. Bella snickered from her position near the door. I shot her what I hope was a sufficiently annoyed look.

"Have some dignity, please, Jasper. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Today, while I was shopping at Nordstrom--and you know how I hate to be interrupted when I'm at Nordstrom--I had the most _disturbing_ vision of you taking a despicable revenge on Emmett. What were you _thinking_?" she asked, and her voice was bitingly sharp. Her eyes flashed.

"I'm sorry, Alice! I didn't mean--" I was panicking in earnest now. What if she took away my gaming privileges?

"What were you thinking, planning this revenge without us?" Suddenly the chagrin vanished, only to be replaced with real humor and goodwill. Bella, her grin even more pronounced, moved forward to stand by Alice's side, gleefully taking in the shock on my face. I sighed in combined relief and resignation.

"You two got me."

"Oh, we definitely did," Alice agreed smugly. "But we're going to get Emmett even worse." Her tinkling laughter was abruptly evil.

It was frightening.

It made chills tingle down my spine.

I _loved _it.

I spent the next five minutes briefing Alice and Bella on what exactly I had been doing that afternoon. The two of them became more and more infuriated as I described the sort of nefarious rubbish their very own brother--or soon-to-be brother, in Bella's case--had been writing about them. Bella was livid almost to the boiling point by the time I finished my tale.

_Speak of the devil . . ._

Emmett strode in the front door, bouncing on the balls of his feet, quite oblivious to what we had been just discussing. He'd clearly had a satisfactory trip.

I forced a pained smile across my face, attempting to hide my true intentions towards him. _Now is not the time, Jasper._

"Hi, Jasper, Alice, Bella!" He grinned broadly and held his arms out, as if expecting us to run into his signature bear hug. "Miss me?"

It was too much for Bella. She let out a grating, high sort of screech and rushed at him. She instantly began to pummel every inch of his body that she could reach. I couldn't tell exactly what she was saying--her screams were too high even for me, with my abnormally good hearing, to understand--but the words "kill", "evil", and "hate" were invoked repeatedly.

"Bella, Bella, Bella!" Emmett said, reaching down to lock her arms in his steel grip. "What's the matter?" his face was honestly clueless, as was the tenor of his emotions. I sighed.

Something began to work its way across Emmett's face as he looked down at her, taking in her scrunched-up face, her red cheeks, and overall distressed appearance. "Bella . . ."

She growled incoherently.

"Don't be offended, but . . ."

This couldn't be good.

"My biology class just finished a unit on . . ."

Oh, for the sake of all that is good, _please, please,_ no. Not that.

"The female menstrual cycle, and you're exhibiting all the signs of PMS!" he finished in a rush, clearly a bit embarrassed, which was remarkable for him. I groaned.

Bella looked at him blankly, stunned into silence. "You know . . . mood swings . . ." he said slowly, as though talking to someone with a deficit of brain cells. Bella started to growl again.

"I understand, though, Bella. It's nothing to be ashamed of," he said, clearly pleased with himself for being the understanding big brother. He let go of her arms and smiled. "So, go on. Finish taking out your hormonal aggression on me. I really don't mind."

Bella let out a howl of anger, and Alice, who had heretofore been too stunned to move a muscle, rushed to her side, giving Emmett a truly terrifying Look. I shifted my weight uneasily. I could feel a fifth set of emotions heading towards us from outside, and from their general direction, I guessed that my other brother had heard the ending of their conversation.

"EMMETT!"

It was like yesterday all over again.

Edward burst through the door. "Were you just discussing MENSTRUATION with my GIRLFRIEND?!" he all but screamed. Emmett shrugged, perplexed that this should make his favorite brother angry with him.

"Maybe?"


	3. The Plan

**Author's Note: Originally I was going to try and wrap the story up in this chapter, but those darn Cullens just wouldn't let me, and so you'll be getting at least one more chapter after this. Enjoy! **

* * *

_"So."_

The word was full of deep, far-reaching, extremely symbolic meaning. It resounded with implication. It resonated with . . . resonance.

It was a shame that no one else seemed to appreciate that.

My military boots--c. 1861, thank you very much--clacked smartly on the tiled floor as I paced, marched, really, back and forth before my lethargic troops.

Miserable slackers, the lot of them.

Edward rolled his eyes, and his exasperation rolled off of him as well. Bella, curled up on his lap (again--you'd think she _lived_ there), grimaced up at him. The room was full of mingled expectation and aggravation. Didn't they _understand_ that I had to work up to it? Did they think that Caesar had found his victories _without_ meticulous planning? That "Stonewall" Jackson had stood his ground on a _whim_? That Alexander the Great had built his empire on a foundation of _haste_?

Dang straight they didn't!

Rosalie was glaring daggers at me. Apparently, she did.

"Just get on with it, Jasper." Alice's voice was bored, flat. She looked at her watch (Vacheron Constantin, or some other fancy designer; I didn't even want to think about the price). "You've been pacing and muttering like you think you're General Lee for five entire minutes. We can't afford to waste time. Carlisle and Esme can only keep Emmett out of the house for so long. Do you have a plan or not?"

The name of my nemesis brought me back to the present century.

"Ah. Yes. The Plan."

I pulled Edward's old watercolor easel (don't ask) forward and, with much dramatic flourishing of the arms and hands, threw off the filmy black cloth covering it. I smiled at my brainchild for a moment, basking in the glow of my genius, and then turned to face the front again.

I raised my hand, ready to gesture to Point One, but dropped it suddenly. It felt dreadfully wrong. This wouldn't do _at all_. It was terribly . . . _unstructured, _somehow.

"_Edward_," I said wheedlingly.

He groaned far more loudly than was necessary, hearing my thoughts before I vocalized them. "_No_. I refuse to let you wreck my car on a childish whim." Bella looked at him in confusion, Rosalie in annoyance.

"You know, Edward, I really hate it when you do that--" she began.

"I won't wreck your car, and this isn't a whim!" I growled, frustrated. It appeared I had a full-scale mutiny on my hands now. "If we're going to go about this seriously, we've got to do it _right_. Orderly. Responsibly."

"What is this, Sex Ed?" Rosalie interjected, smirking.

I ground my teeth. _Brats._

"Fine, Edward. That's just fine. Have it your way. I don't see what's so hard about lending me a windshield wiper, but--"

Bella interrupted me with a fit of incredulous giggles. "A _windshield wiper_? _That's_ what all the fuss is about? _Why_?"

Rosalie was smirking even wider now. She looked remarkably like a Chesire Cat. "You've got such a dirty mind, Jasper."

I sighed, trying to keep my aggravation under wraps.

_Remember, they couldn't possibly understand. They've never served under the masters: Lee . . . Davis . . . Yoda . . . oh, sorry, wrong galaxy. Anyway, they don't understand the vital importance of every single detail. _

"Well, if you must know, I was going to use the windshield wiper as a pointer, to indicate the separate parts of my strategy. It's better than using a simple metric ruler, because it's slightly bendy as well as rigid. And Edward's got the highest quality vehicle--no offense, Alice--and therefore the highest quality windshield wiper. But since _some people_--"

Bella interrupted my train of thought . . . for the second time. "Wait a minute. A pointer? In what century did you attend school? The _1800's_?" She was giggling again.

I stared at her. There was a long silence.

"_Anyway_," Alice said levelly, "Jasper _really wants _to tell us about the Plan, _right now, _don't you, _darling_?" She smiled at me beatifically.

"But--"

"_Without_ your precious _pointer_." Now she was glowering.

"_Fine_." I reluctantly gestured to Point One with my--_shudder_--naked hand. "The gist of it is that we've got to get _Emmett, _henceforth known as Big E, to believe that what he's written is actually _real._ Psychological Warfare 101. . . ."

_Ten minutes later . . ._

"Any questions?"

I smelled rank stupefaction and astonishment coming from Bella, whose mouth was as wide open as humanly possible. I almost expected a colony of flies to take up residence there.

Alice conversely, appeared quite excited. She was clearly looking forward to _her_ part in the ambush.

Rosalie also looked to be enjoying herself. There was a malicious glimmer in her eye, and in her aura, that I wholeheartedly approved of.

Edward just glared at me, the disapproval radiating off in suffocating waves. He seemed to be a loss for words.

"Jasper, I don't like it, and you know it." It came out in a strangled hiss.

So much for him being speechless. But then again, I'd been naive, foolish, to hope for it. Since when had Edward _ever_ kept his opinions to himself?

That's right. Since _never_.

"I do know that, Edward," I said suavely, twirling Exhibit A (a Prom Queen Barbie doll) in my hands. I sent a subtle calming wave in his direction for good measure. "But do you want to teach Emmett a lesson or not?" I closed my eyes and sent him yet another sampling of the garbage my other, over imaginative, brother had dreamed up. _Coconut oil, disturbingly large dogs,__ pink . . . far too much pink . . ._

"All right, all right!" He snapped, his face contorted with pain.

"I still hate it when you do that," Rosalie muttered.

"But this _Plan_ you speak of," Edward said, his voice derisive, "seems to be taking the . . . _humiliation factor_ of the participants to an extreme. All I can say is that for your sake, Jasper," and he snarled at me menacingly, "this had better _work._ I'm not dressing up as a . . . you know . . . prin--_thing _for nothing." He cradled the still-shell-struck Bella protectively, as if to shield her from my 'evil musings.'

I'm an empath, all right? I _understand_ body language.

"It will work," Alice said confidently, "but _only_ if you cooperate, Edward." She waved a reprimanding finger at him. "Emmett knows that you're not as . . ."

"Normal?" Rosalie suggested helpfully. Edward bared his glistening canines at her.

". . . _playful_ as the rest of us, and so he'll assume that if you're acting _strange_, too, then it couldn't possibly be a fake," she concluded.

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose with such force that I was astounded when no immortal clumps of snot shot out.

He sighed softly, and I smelled victory.

"How shall we begin?"

"OH! Oooh!" Alice jumped up and down excitedly. "I took the liberty of getting the costumes earlier today when I had my vision, and so, Edward, you won't have to settle for some fake jewels or cheap imitation rhinestones; I have a _real, _genuine jeweled tiara, isn't that nice?"

"_Lovely_."


	4. Showtime, Sucker

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in updating, everyone. somnioarboris, please don't hurt me! ;) In other news, this story has received over 1,000 hits, lots of alerts, and many favoritings, but a disproportionately small (although still AWESOME, AMAZING, FANTASTIC) amount of reviews. Please show me (or Jasper, if that helps) some love and click that lil' review button!  
**

"All right, soldiers . . . thespians . . . actors . . . whatever you want to call yourselves. This is our last run-through before showtime, aka Emmett's Armageddon. Three . . . two . . . one . . . action!" I waved my script, ingeniously titled "Script," enthusiastically before standing up to join my fellow conspirators.

_A few minutes later_ . . .

I clapped my hands in approval. "All right. Cut. Very good, everyone." A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of my lips. If that rehearsal was any indicator, we would all get our revenge on Emmett . . . and it would be _good_. I was so joyful, so ecstatic, that I could sing.

And so I did.

_"Let's get down to business to defeat the Huns!_

_Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons. . ?_

_You're not suited for the rage of war, so pack up, go home, you're through!_

_How could I make a man out of you?"_

I have a lovely singing voice. Really, I do. In fact, in my days back in the army, I was heralded by my regiment as possessing the best rendition of _Dixie_ that they'd ever heard.

Rosalie had told me that they'd just said that in order to keep me happy; in order to, to use the modern phrase, "suck up to me."

Hogwash.  
_  
_And just so that we're clear, _Mulan _is _not _a girly movie.

Alice got up from her canine crouch on the floor--she had been still frozen in her final position in her choreography for the Plan--and rolled her eyes expressively at me. It was difficult to see her expression from beneath the chocolate-brown fur covering her face, but not impossible. It was uncanny, how much she looked like Rosalie at that moment. Even with the fur.

"You know, Jasper, love, that song is moderately _sexist_," she said sweetly. "Why you would need to be a man to be a good fighter is not something that I really fully understand . . ." she moved, in a tiny, almost imperceptible step, towards me. I gulped. Her voice was sweet in the way that poisoned apples are sweet.

"I didn't mean that, honey, you know that!" But it was too late. I could sense real irritation beneath all the . . . fur. She let out a guttural snarl and tackled me. I fell to the floor, curly platinum-blond wig and all, with a resounding crash.

"I'll--" she punched me squarely in the gut to keep me on the ground--"show you--" she straddled my stomach and pinned my arms down--"the meaning of FIGHTER!" Her fingers curled into minuscule claws and she lifted them above her head, laughing maniacally. And then she went in for the kill.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed. "NOT--" I gasped--"my TICKLISH spot!" If I had the ability, I would have been crying. I howled in pain. "Everyone, HELP ME!" I screeched. It was becoming unbearable.

Strangely enough, not one of my other cohorts moved from their positions to extend me a helping hand. Rosalie's shoulders were shaking, and for some reason I suspected that it was not grief or sympathy that moved her. Edward was reclining on the couch, fully costumed, his (very prettily shadowed and mascara-ed) eyes closed and his teeth bared in a . . . could it be? _Vindictive-_looking smile. Bella just shook her head.

It was almost as if they _enjoyed _seeing their commander suffering.

How odd.

Alice froze mid-tickle, her eyes distant, faraway. I recognized the symptoms of a vision. Suddenly, she leapt to her feet, releasing me from her grasp. I remained on the ground, moaning in relief.

"They'll be here in—"

"Three minutes," Edward finished. Rosalie scowled.

"Do I even have to say it?"

Alice ignored them. "So, everyone—you, too, Jasper," she said sharply, giving me a swift kick in the side, "let's all go back to our opening positions." I sighed and rose to my feet, stretching out my various limbs, checking for injuries. Thankfully, I seemed to be relatively unscathed, although my wig was slightly rumpled and frizzy from its contact with the linoleum. I roughly jammed it back on my head. Emmett would just have to deal with it. He liked_ all _blonds, right? And if not, a wave of lust ought to do the trick . . . oops; I'm revealing my part in the Plan. Just forget that I said that.

And so we all scattered throughout different parts of the house, ready to ambush Emmett at the first sign of weakness. I hid behind a potted plant in the upstairs hallway (the wig was rather bulky, granted, but I made it fit); Bella scurried into the kitchen; Rosalie staked out the staircase; Alice hid herself in the coat closet; and, for the coup de grace, Princess Edward planted himself in the backyard, in the center of the spot that Emmett liked to call his "wrestling ring."

I could barely contain my excitement. "Everyone," I whispered (I knew that all of them, with the exception of Bella, would be able to hear me)," you have all the lines down pat, right? We can't afford to make mistakes. . . ." Edward sighed. Rosalie snarled. Alice yawned. And Bella muttered,

"This stupid get-up is really itchy."

I tried again. "You're all ready, right?" I spoke slightly louder. There was a grumbling affirmative. I frowned. "Show some enthusiasm, everyone! Focus!" I was getting worked up; directing was _fun. _"Let's do a group trust exercise, okay? We have the time! Feel the positive ener--"

"SHUT UP!" My siblings and my wife screeched as one voice. Their aggravation was suffocating me. Downstairs, Bella readjusted her maternity gown, scratching her back in a most irritated manner.

"_Fine._" What babies they were.

"They're here!" Alice squealed. I tensed. _Showtime, sucker._

The front door creaked open. I recognized Carlisle and Esme's muted voices. "Come on . . . let's get the rosebushes to the backyard . . ."

Good. All was going according to plan, then.

_CRASH. Slam. CRASH._ _Squeak. _I heard the distinctive sounds of a jeep's door being slammed shut and of a gargantuan, caveman-ish, rubber-booted stride.

Woo-hoo. Emmett had arrived.


	5. Prepare to Meet Your Doom

**Author's Note: Yes, I know, I'm in shock too. :D Two chapters in two days! Will wonders never cease? As always, please let me know what you think!**

The front door creaked open for a second time, and the Man of the Hour entered the house, blissfully unaware of the fact that he was walking into the welcoming arms of his downfall. I tried to hide my glee behind a few subtle waves of foreboding.

"Hey, Esme, where do you want the mulch?" His booming voice echoed throughout the house. "Esme?" No reply. "Carlisle? Rose? Is anyone here?" He was slightly unnerved now. "Is this supposed to be some kind of a joke?" I stifled my snort of laughter in a particularly large palm leaf.

_Prepare to meet your doom, fool._

It was Alice's cue. She burst out of the coat closet, a vision in brown faux fur. I couldn't see her from my position, but we had rehearsed the scene so many times that I could visualize it easily. Vicious, canine snarls erupted from her throat as she circled him in ever-shrinking spirals.

_Thunk_. It seemed that Emmett had dropped the bag of mulch.

"Is that _you_, Alice?" He sounded mildly amused. "What is this, Halloween? You didn't have to dress up like an ugly _dog_, you know. No offense, but you look kinda stupid."

The growling increased in volume. I smiled. _Perfect.  
__  
__No one_ insulted Alice's fashion sense and got away with it.

"AHAHAhaha--stop--AHHH!" The screaming was music to my ears. "HOW--AH--did you--AH--know about my--AHHH--tickle spot?" He was dry-sobbing. Alice growled again. "EWWW! GROSS! STOP LICKING ME, YOU DOG!" I snickered. There was a ripping sound. "_Alice_." More growling. "Don't you _dare_--" I raised my eyebrows. Alice seemed to be burying him in a pile of mulch; a stroke of genius on her part. He was truly scared now.

With a wonderfully convincing last snarl, Alice pulled the front door off its hinges, threw it on top of Emmett, and went outside to howl triumphantly at the sky.

I heard nothing from the foyer but a slight whimpering.

Rosalie, looking quite, er, _striking_ in a shiny black mask and billowing cape, toting her weapon of choice, slowly descended the stairway, coming to a stop before her husband's prostrate body. There was a crash. She lifted the door off of him.

"Rose!" He sounded immeasurably relieved. I sighed. He clearly hadn't seen her face yet.

"Thank _goodness_; Alice was being really freaky, and--" I heard the _hiss_-puh, _hiss_-puh of Rosalie's breathing. She'd always been one for the dramatics.

"_No_." I could barely hear his trembling voice. "Rose, this really isn't funny any more--" _Hiss_-puh, _hiss_-puh. "If this is about the time I messed up your closet last week, I'm sorry! Can't we work it out--" The click of a sword being drawn. _Hiss-_puh. There was a loud _pzzt_-ing noise. "OUCH!"

"LUKE." Her voice was a low rasp.

Emmett was surely on the floor by now; those light sabers could be painful.

"_Noooooo." _It was a little, terrified moan.

_Pzzzt._ "Shut up."

"Sorry!"

_Pzzzt_.

"I AM YOUR FATHER."

_Pzzzt pzzzt pzzzt pzzzt._

And with a swoosh of her cape and one last _hiss-_puh, Mr.--excuse me, _Ms._--Vader left the building.

It was _my_ turn now.

I stepped out from behind my plant, readjusting my platinum tresses, and leapt to the top of the stairs, hands on my hips, Superman-style.

_Whoooosh._

I slid down the banister, my ankles daintily crossed, coming to a skidding halt before the emotional heap of mulchy pathetic-ness also known as my brother.

"Jasper, thank _goodness, _a _guy_!" He was babbling. "What is _with_ the girls lately? First Bella attacks me, now Alice and Rosalie! You wouldn't _believe_ what they just did to me--" I smiled thinly. "Hey, you don't think that it's possible for _vampires_ to get PMS, d'you? 'Cause _that_ was hormonal aggression if I ever saw it . . ."

He was trying to _joke_ with me. The traitor was acting as though we were best buddies.

That was the final straw.

I fluffed my wig, kicked Emmett to his feet, and made him look me in the eye, watching with satisfaction as bewilderment, terror, and a confused sort of comprehension washed over him. "Not you, too! What's going _on_?" It was a lament. I smiled at him seductively, giving my hula-skirted hips the tiniest of shakes. He was frozen with horror.

"Hey there, you big hunka man." I did my best to make my voice girlish and yet husky. "How's it going, hot stuff?"

Now, before you start calling me all sorts of bad names, please remember that _I_ didn't write this dialogue. Emmett had, in one of his craptastic little _stories_. And it was all going to come back to slap him in the face.

I fluttered my eyelashes at my brother, repulsed, yet fascinated by what I was doing. His mouth was wide open, his eyes dead and blank with shock.

He wasn't biting.

Well, I would've been quite frightened if he _had_.

And so I used the best weapon in my arsenal, dunking Emmett headfirst into a bucket of steaming hot lust. Metaphorically, of course. But it did the trick.

He let out a low sort of grunt and moved towards me, hands outstretched, like a zombie. I giggled frivolously.

"You . . . pretty . . ." he sounded like a troll. My skin crawled. _Oh, the depths I would sink to to get revenge . . ._

Emmett's disgusting lips missed my face by inches, and I felt that this had gone far enough to be effective. Lust, _poof--_goodbye; cold water, _swish_--hello.

Emmett froze, his lips still puckered, and saw me through clear eyes. A convulsive spasm ran through his entire body, jolting him like a bolt of lightning. A silent scream--a squeak, if you will--escaped his throat.

"NOOOOO!" He bellowed. "MAN!" He began to jump up and down, his eyes screwed up, his hands balled into fists. The floorboards shook beneath him. "MANLY! I'm a . . . MAN?" It was more of a question than a statement of fact. He was seriously panicking. I sighed complacently, happily. He took a second look at me, let out another squeak of terror, and made for the kitchen at full speed. I followed him at a leisurely pace, grinning widely.

My day just kept getting better and better.


	6. My love! My life!

"EMMETT!" Bella shrieked. Emmett froze in the doorway to the kitchen, transfixed with horror and fascination and--just a flicker--_recognition_. I gave Bella a big thumbs-up from behind Evil Incarnate's back.

"WHY are you just standing there?" she stomped her foot. The chair beside her shook, and she clasped her hands over her distended belly. I pushed Emmett in front of me. He was still frozen.

"You . . . you're . . ." he mumbled. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly; his resemblance to a blowfish was uncanny.

Well, it wasn't _really_ her belly. It was a highly realistic (and highly expensive, I might add) prosthetic thingamabob strapped _over_ her belly. Beneath the gaudily flowered maternity clothes a gleeful Alice had chosen for her, she really did look . . .

"Pregnant?!" Emmett sputtered. He didn't seem to have regained control of his limbs yet.

"YES, I'M FREAKIN' PREGNANT, DUMMY!" she yelled, and then sighed exasperatedly. "And Junior and I are hungry, so if you don't get your lazy--"

"Wait!" Emmett whined, gaining enough control of himself to hold his hands up. "How? I mean . . . vampires can't . . . you know . . ." he paused. Realization washed over him. "OH MY GOSH, YOU'VE BEEN CHEATING ON EDWARD WITH A WEREWOLF, HAVEN'T YOU?" He jumped away from her. "Werewolf cooties!" he screamed.

"Have NOT! And yes, for your information, vampires _can_," Bella said impatiently. She surreptitiously scratched her lower back. "Because--"

"I said so," Carlisle smoothly finished, appearing as if out of thin air in the doorway. I was pleased to note that he was outfitted in a pair of ugly sea-green scrubs and that he spoke with a pronounced British accent. He winked at me slyly from behind Emmett's back. The latter's jaw went slack.

There's nothing like a well-constructed rhyme, now, is there?

I didn't think so.

But anyway. Carlisle-the-Briton handed Bella a large bottle of prenatal vitamins, which she promptly chugged down. Emmett observed this gratuitous drug consumption with something like wonder.

"You see, Emmett," Carlisle said solemnly, patting an emotional Bella sympathetically on the back (she fake-burped), "my distinguished colleagues in jolly old England and I have been working on a top-secret project of this sort for years now; using frozen blah blah because vampires are already frozen, obviously, blah bitty technical blah blah hem . . ." Carlisle's words seem to wash right over Emmett's head. Which was the desired effect, of course.

There was a new emotion in his eyes now as he gazed upon the hiccupping Bella. "You mean . . . you got Edward to . . . you got him to . . . I thought that was impossible, dude!" he was grinning.

Ah. It was_ respect_ he felt for her. I hated to admit it, but he had a point.

"_Please--_hic--Emmett." She glared at him, and he instantly recoiled. "Not Edward. _Jasper_." She sighed my name, giving me a look of simpering adoration. Emmett whirled around, terror fresh in his eyes. "YOU!" he croaked.

"That's all the congratulations you have for your _favorite_ brother?" I bumped my shoulder against his as I strode to Bella's side; he jumped as though electrocuted.

"Yes," I continued theatrically, fingering the script in my pocket, "Bella and I realized just last week that we, er, _burned_ for each other with an all-consuming passion, and this is the miraculous result of our love--and Carlisle's medical expertise, of course." I stroked her "belly" in what I thought was a loving manner.

Carlisle saluted us and coughed into his sleeve to muffle his snort of mirth.

"My love!" Bella declaimed dramatically, throwing her arms haphazardly in the air for emphasis.

"My life!" I thrust my hand to my heart, inwardly gagging. "Without you--"

"I am _nothing_!" Bella shrieked, collapsing in a limp heap in the chair beside her. I chanced a look at Emmett; recognition, again, was creeping through him, intensifying the terror.

Just as it should be.

Bella suddenly straightened up in her seat. "As I recall, Emmett," she said sharply, "a few moments ago I told you that I was hungry. Well, that lil' Jazzy and I were hungry." She made goo-goo eyes at me. I reciprocated.

There was a loud silence.

"Do you not understand what that MEANS?" Bella's face went a very interesting shade of red. "I'm hungry NOW!"

"You heard the woman," Carlisle said in his posh accent, looking up from his shiny copy of _Vogue. _(See also: Emmett's foul fanfictions)

"Get the mother of my unborn child some food!" I added, growling menacingly at Emmett, whose thunderstruck gaze flickered from my face to Bella's face to my hula skirt and back again--dang, I'd forgotten about that.

He gave a little start. "Wha--"

"I'm having a massive craving for pickles, Emmett, and so you'll need to get those. And make sure they're the dill kind. And I also really want peanut butter--smooth, not crunchy--and--hic--lotsandlots of bananas!" Emmett just stared at her. "_Now!_" She muttered something about how stupid vampires never had any food in the house.

A dazed Emmett gave Bella a vague nod. "Okay . . . pickles . . ." he meandered off in the direction of the front door. I hastily grabbed him and spun him around.

"The store's not that way, Emmett, it's--" I kicked the back door open and shoved him out-- "just out--" I patted him--all right, hit him--vigorously between the shoulder blades-- "here." And then I slammed the screen door behind him. Emmett seemed to come to himself just as I did so, however, and he turned back, confused.

"Jasper, bro, what the he--" but he froze, welded to the spot. A delicate pink rose petal drifted through the air, mysteriously carried on the wind, and landed precisely on the tip of his nose; his eyes crossed. Edward's quiet laughter rang throughout the backyard clearing.

"We've been expecting you, Emmett."


	7. All Hail Princess Edward

**Author's Note: Oh my gosh, over 100 reviews! -falls over- You guys are truly amazing. :) Hope you like! **

My brother rotated slowly on the spot, his eyes tightly shut, his face screwed up. The rose petal fell to the ground. I'd say that he looked constipated, were it not for the fact that that is scientifically impossible.

I stepped out of the house and into the backyard, closely shadowed by a waddling (the prosthetic belly was heavy--well, at least for a human) Bella. I wasn't going to miss this for _anything._

"Open your eyes, Emmett." This time, Edward's laugh was chill; humorless. Terrifying for Emmett, hilarious for me. "And no, you're not dreaming. Need I remind you that as a vampire, you can't technically do that?" He made a tsk-ing noise with his tongue. "Yes, this is real. Realer than the empty space in your head. Realer than that heart-covered undershirt of yours that you love so much. Realer than the stash of Hello Kitty paraphernalia beneath your bed. Realer than . . . "All of _this_ was unscripted, but it sounded as though Edward had been wanting to reveal it all for a very long time. The relish in his voice was undisguised. I raised my eyebrows as Edward continued to detail Emmett's most embarrassing secrets. _Impressive._

"Oh, just cut to the chase, Edward." Rosalie, still decked out in her Darth-clone outfit, was leaning against a tree, filing her nails (not an easy task, that--her nails were rock-hard, like all her other limbs). None of Edward's scandalous reveals about her husband seemed to surprise her in the least.

"Yeah, hurry up, will you? I'm still really hungry," Bella chimed in. She was sitting on the lawn grass in a lotus position, practicing Lamaze breathing. She seemed to be taking her role-playing very seriously.

Of course, the merest suggestion that his Bella was uncomfortable was enough to bring Edward back to the Plan. "All right, all right."

Emmett hadn't made a single motion--hadn't even batted an eyelash, in fact--from the beginning of this entire debacle. His eyes were still firmly shut, and the denial radiating from him was stifling. "You heard me, Emmett." Edward's tone was dangerously soft. "Open. Your. Eyes."

Emmett clearly had no choice in the matter, and so he did as he was told.

And then he fell to the ground, convulsed--no, _paralyzed_--by a spasm of mingled horror, hilarity, and disbelief. The former was the strongest of the three, though.

His eyes, bulging like those of a tree frog, raked Edward's appearance up and down. He didn't make a sound.

I think that his terror was too deep for mere screaming.

My gaze followed Emmett's, and quite frankly, I could understand a small portion of that fear. Alice had taken my example of the Prom Queen Barbie doll quite literally in designing Edward's costume. He was all fluffy pink tulle and glittering gems--or maybe the sparkling was the effect of the sun reflecting off his heavily-made-up face.

All in all, I had to admit that he made a _very_ pretty girl. And in truth, he was, by far, the most ridiculous-looking of all of us, even including hula-skirted me.

Of course he heard that. I groaned inwardly as his head whipped around, his nostrils flared and his silky extensions waving gently in the afternoon breeze. His shadowed eyes bore into mine. _In a good way, I_ hastily amended, _IN A GOOD WAY! _

Only slightly mollified, he, thankfully, returned his attention back to the Root of All Evil.

It all made a very pretty tableau, really. _Her _Royal Highness--cough, cough--stood in the middle of the clearing, illuminated by a ray of sunlight so directly overhead that it was almost a spotlight, flanked by his "attendants": Alice-the-werewolf at his right hand-side (holding the rosebush that had so generously bestowed one of its fair petals on Emmett); Rosalie-the-anti-Jedi on his left (still engaged in the fascinating rituals of nail care); and Esme directly behind the Princess (outfitted in a sort of pseudo-medieval gown ; it looked as though they'd had a sale at the Halloween store; gingerly grasping the hem of Edward's long train).

Of course, the whole scene was irreparably marred by Emmett's very presence.

The screen door swung open with a delicate _swoosh_, and Carlisle, once again, appeared as though out of thin air.

Yes, it's a vampire thing.

He appeared to have traded in his scrubs for a medieval outfit like Esme's, although his consisted of a doublet, a cape, and--oh, horror of horrors--a pair of lurid red rights, rather than a dress.

Someone'd clearly been spending FAR too much time with the Volturi.

He strode past ommmmm-ing Bella and groveling Emmett to stand by Edward's side, and, after a gracious nod from the latter, pulled a very ancient-looking scroll of parchment from between the pages of his copy of _Vogue. _After much clearing of the throat and rustling of the parchment, the doctor opened his mouth to speak.

"Hear ye, hear ye . . ." he proclaimed, his posh accent morphed into something nasal, high-pitched, and altogether more snooty. "All Hail Princess Edward."

"All hail," we dutifully echoed in a cheerless monotone.

"On this day, there be hereby called a court of High Justice, specifically formed for the trial of one Emmett Cullen . . ." The before-mentioned visibly paled. Anguish. _Ah, lovely._

"Charged of the following offenses and misdemeanors: libel, slander, and disturbance of the peace. The accused shall swear the following oath to truth." Carlisle was a master of keeping a straight face in trying situations such as this one. I wasn't.

"Raise your right hand . . ."

Emmett raised his left, dazed. I sighed patiently and helped him switch.

"Repeat after me." It was a solemn order. Alice spontaneously threw a handful of rose petals in the air to punctuate the momentous moment. Dancing on the wind, a truant petal landed directly on Edward's lower lip.

And stuck there.

_Lipgloss_. Edward sputtered and spat, unsuccessfully trying to blow the blossom away, until Esme stepped forward and brushed it off in one deft motion.

Edward's livid face _dared_ me to laugh.

Having waited patiently throughout this interruption, Carlisle cleared his throat again and sternly reiterated his injunction. "Repeat after me . . ."

Emmett nodded weakly.

Carlisle's face contorted for one brief moment before he read the next sentence aloud.

"Edward is a pretty pretty princess."


End file.
